Wild Magic
by xZarkko
Summary: Alone, cut off from his friends and his society, Harry Potter is lost. Both his body and his magic in disarray after the resurrection of the Dark Lord. Hunted by the Dark and betrayed by the Light, Harry Potter is tossed into the swell of the blood tide. He will fight, or he will die. Those are the only choices in this world of wild magic. H/? (Currently on Hiatus)
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter and all related properties belong to J.K. Rowling. I'm just amusing myself in her universe. _

**Hey everybody! xZarkko here with my second multi-chapter fic. This is something that I started a really long time ago and totally forgot about. And then after getting stuck with Timekeepers I pulled it up and started writing again, and found myself here. The rest of what I need to say will be at the bottom of the chapter. Now, I proudly present, for your enjoyment,**

**Wild Magic**

**Chapter 1**

_'Wands out, you reckon?' 'Kill the spare' '**CRUCIO**!'_  
Emerald eyes burst open as Harry Potter woke with a gasp. He shot up in his rickety cot, deep gasps breaking the still of the early morning air. He was silent for a moment, sucking in air as his heart hammered in his chest. He took a shuddering breath and spun his feet to the side, gingerly laying them on the cold hardwood floor of the smallest bedroom of Number Four, Privet Drive. He hung his head and pressed his hands to his forehead, removing them a moment later. Through blurry eyes he watched as his hands shook. He took a deep breath and clenched them tightly, his knuckles turning pale white. "Dammit," he cursed softly, "get it together, Harry."

Reaching over he snatched his glasses from his bedside table, slipping them on his face, taking care not to jab himself in the eye due to unsteady hands. He cast his gaze to the digital clock. The hazy red 6:45 hung in the air as if mocking him. Harry groaned, _' Another four hours of sleep. I think that brings this weeks total to...seven.'_ Despite the exhaustion lurking behind his eyes, he didn't dare return to sleep. One set of nightmares was enough for tonight, thank you very much.

Taking a moment to appreciate the silence of the early morning, he stood and padded across the hall to start his morning routine. Fifteen minutes later he was dressed in basketball shorts and a bleach stained sweatshirt, beating a steady beat down Privet Drive. He fell into a rhythm and let his mind drift away. Exercise had become somewhat of a religion to him in the summer after his disastrous fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Getting his body into shape had allowed him a certain degree of control over it, letting him minimize the after effects of his exposure to the Cruciatus Curse. It kept his mind from things he would rather not think about. Things like the graveyard and his friends apparent abandonment of him.

He concentrated on his breathing, matching it to the sound of his trainers slapping on the pavement. Constant exercise and a grueling chore regiment had him in better shape than he'd ever been in before. Admittedly, some of it was thanks to finally getting proper meals. His aunt had told him at the beginning of the summer, "If you do your chores and leave us alone, we'll leave you alone. You can cook your own food if you want more than what we give." Granted, she said this all while wearing a face like she was choking down gasoline. Harry was guessing that somebody like Dumbledore had probably paid her a visit.

He slowed his run to a jog as he neared the park, bleeding of into a walk as he entered the fenced in area. He took a seat on one of the creaky old swings and caught his breath. But he couldn't. He tried to slow his breathing but he was inhaling faster and faster. He could feel his heart pounding, hear it like a war drum in his ears. 'Damn it, not again!' He thought furiously. His grip tightened on the swing chains and he clenched his eyes shut. He could feel the hairs on his arms stand up as his magic flooded the area. The swings next to him began to rock back and loose mulch that covered the playground floor began to shake, small peices levitating into the air. Harry sucked in another breath and held it. 'No!' The world stood still. The swings stopped in the height of their swing. Mulch hung in the air. He breathed out. The world kickstarted back into motion. Mulch dropped to the ground and the swings fell. Harry slumped in seat, sweat beading on his forehead. The air was thick and heavy with smell of ozone.

Harry raised a shaking hand, his skin pressed in the pattern of chains. He watched as wisps of blue energy drifted from his skin, curling lazily into the air to fade away. The effect lasted only a minute, but Harry still stared, frowning. He was losing control of his magic. He didn't know how or why, but he was. He couldn't even touch his wand anymore, the damn thing started sparking whenever he got close. He sighed and dropped his hand back to his side. Harry felt like he was losing his mind. Between his magic gone crazy and his body still scarred from Voldemort's tender care, Harry was going absolutely mad. His emotions were caught between the guilt and horror of his nightmares, and anger and sorrow at the fact that his friends appeared to have forgotton about him.

He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair as he stood. _'I'd better get back,'_ he thought bitterly, _'Petunia will throw a fit if breakfast isn't ready on time. At least I actually get to eat what I make now.'_ Harry grumbled to himself as he started his jog back to Privet Drive.

* * *

In the bushes next to the play ground, under an invisibility cloak, Nymphadora Tonks stood with her mouth hung open and eyes wide in shock. "What the fuck was that?" She whispered to herself. It had been like nothing she'd ever felt before.

She had literally felt his magic pressing against her, like a great weight had settled on her shoulders. And when it was gone she could barely breathe in the supercharged air. She absentmindedly noticed that her powers were freaking out, her hair changing length and color over and over again. Her eyes were probably doing the same. She was going to have to get herself under control before she followed Harry.

* * *

Harry jogged up the sidewalk to Number 4, heedless of his watcher or the state he'd left her in. He fished out his key and entered the house quietly, careful not to give the Dursleys reason to be even more nasty to him. He could hear a shower running upstairs. That meant Petunia was up and was going to be down soon. He wasn't going to have time to shower and change, which meant he was going to have to listen to aunt complain.

_'Great.'_ He grumbled to himself as he trekked up to his room. He kicked off his shoes and hung up his hoody, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt. He made his way down stairs and started on breakfast. He heated up the skillets and started cracking eggs. He heard Petunia come down the stairs and pad into the kitchen. She stopped at the kitchen entryway._ 'Here it comes.'_

"You're filthy." She muttered with disdain. He could practically hear the sneer on her face. "You could at least have the decency to clean up before sullying us with your presence." Harry grit his teeth. Good god, she just never shut up, did she? "At least you haven't forgotten breakfast. Hurry up, will you? Vernon will be up soon."

Harry rolled his eyes. _"Da, mien fuhrer."_

Petunia glared heatedly at him but didn't say anything, merely turning and heading to get the paper. Harry was grabbing another egg when it happened. A lance of pain raced up his back, burning a trail of fire across the length of his spine. His teeth slammed together as his body clenched up, the egg in his hand bursting. He let out a ragged breath as the pain faded. "Fuck!" He swore quietly. This had been happening all summer. It was the real reason why the Cruciatus was outlawed. After being held under it for an extended amount of time, it left after effects. Permanent after affects. Twitching. Pain spasms. Coughing blood. Shaking hands. It'd be there for the rest of his life. His body and his magic both were betraying him. Harry groaned as he washed the egg from his hand. Why couldn't old Voldie have just killed him?

* * *

"Boy!" Harry stopped as he opened the door. "Where do you think you're going?" Vernon growled for his seat at the table. Unseen, Harry rolled his eyes. "Work." He said tiredly. He worked on weekends and did chores during the week. Today was Saturday. Vernon knew this, he just liked to make an ass of himself. Since he wasn't allowed to starve Harry anymore and he was now to big to smack around, he had to find new ways to convince himself of his superiority. Vernon grunted unhappily. "Back to that punk place?" He sneered. "Well you better be back in time to cook dinner." Harry nodded silently and stepped out of the house, a messenger bag across his shoulder.

He took a deep breath and groaned, letting the Dursley fueled tension leave his body. He took a few steps and then stopped, hearing the bushes rustle. He narrowed his eyes and cast a weary glance over at the shrubbery, his hand falling to his pocket where he kept a small knife. He couldn't carry his wand around anymore so he'd had to improvise. After a moment when no more noises were forth coming he relaxed and started walking, heading to the bus stop. It was only about 8:30 but it was a bit of a ride to London, where he'd gotten a part time job, so he always headed out early.

* * *

Harry collapsed into the bus seat with a groan, and turned to the window as the bus began to move. He leaned his head against the cool glass and closed his eyes, listening to soft murmur of tires on blacktop. He cherished the moments like this, where he could relax his body and enjoy the silence.

The truth was, Harry was tired. Tired of everything. Tired of fighting. Tired of dealing with the wizarding world. How much shit had he put up with? He'd fought trolls and basilisks. Dementors and dragons. Not to mention the Dark Lord. And for what? To be hated and ostracized? The single newspaper he'd managed to recieve (before Dumbledore cancelled his prescription, for his own good) revealed that Fudge was telling the world that Harry was a violent, attention seeking liar who was likely delusional and dangerous. And the public was eating it up. They hated him. They were calling for him to be institutionalized. Harry felt an uncharacteristic flash of anger towards them. What the fuck was their problem? Didn't they know what he'd done for them? How he'd fought monsters straight out of nightmares, for them? Did they have any idea what would have happened if Voldemort had gotten the Philosopher's Stone? Or how close the basilisk had come to murdering their children? Did they even care?

Harry felt warm liquid on his fingers and looked down to see that he'd been clenching his fist so hard that his nails had drawn blood. He took a deep breath and forced himself to relax. The truth was, Harry was fed up. He was at his breaking point. His friends had abandoned him. His body and his magic were betraying him. All the shit he'd had to deal with was piling up and he was breaking under the pressure. Harry watched silently as the towering buildings of London drew closer, his mind in turmoil. He couldn't help but think to himself, _'What the hell am I even doing here?'_

* * *

Harry got off the bus and started walking, letting the hustle and bustle of the city calm his mind. He walked a few blocks, expertly navigating the twists and turns until he found himself in front of a brick and mortar building. The windows were filled with pictures of artistic designs, and a neon sign burned in the corner, proudly proclaiming the shop to be open. Above the door was a sign. **'The Ink Shop.'**

Harry stepped in to the sound of a jingling bell, the door swinging closed behind him. The shop was fairly large, with a checkout counter directly to his right and several chairs and a couch to his left. The walls were papered with graffiti, dozens of colorful and exotic designs. The few places were there weren't you could see the wall painted lime green. A large section of the left wall was taken up by a floor to ceiling mirror and there were several desks lined up against the right wall. The desks were covered with bottles of ink and papers with half finished drawings on them. In the center of the room was a black chair somewhat reminiscent of a dentists chair, in which sat a pretty girl with blond hair, wearing a tank top and shorts. Leaning over one of her arms was a man dressed predominantly in leather. He wore no sleeves, leaving his inked up arms bared. His hair was blonde as well, and spiked straight up. He looked up when Harry walked in and smiled, crinkling the tan skin around his blue eyes. "Harry!" He shouted happily. "How's it going?" Harry grinned and dropped his bag next to the counter, making his way over to the duo. "Hey Matt." He greeted.

Matt was Harry's boss, the self proclaimed 'Best Tattoo Artist in London'. He owned this shop. Early in the summer Harry had visited London frequently, seeking an escape from his relatives. On one of his visits he'd come across Matt being mugged. Harry had stepped in to help and together the two of them had made short work of the would be thieves. As thanks, Matt had offered him a beer and a job. Harry accepted both. They'd been friends ever since.

Matt grinned and motioned to the girl he was working on. "Harry this is Maggie, our newest customer."

"Pleasure to meet you."

"And Maggie, this is our super mysterious but totally awesome cashier Harry. He'll be ringing you up when we're done."

Maggie smiled at his introduction and waved. "Hi." Harry stepped over and Matt rolled his chair back so he could look. "Check it out!" He grinned proudly. Harry leaned over the girls arm. It was a rose, the flower done in shades of black and gold. The skin shined raw, but it was still beautiful. Harry nodded with a smile. "Looks great!" He praised, turning to the girl. "Your first?"

She nodded emphatically. "Yep!"

Harry smiled easily at her enthusiasm. "Well it's beautiful."

"Thanks!"

Harry gave Matt a friendly smack to the shoulder and made his way behind the counter. As he sat down, one of the three doors in the back opened. The left led to the bathroom and the right to the storeroom. In the middle there was a short hallway leading to a back door. The door to the storeroom was opened and a girl stepped out. She was dressed in black jeans and a red shirt, her arms covered in tattoos. She had long auburn hair and brown eyes, which were surrounded with a thick coat of mascara. Her lips were likewise covered in black lipstick. She was a beautiful girl, with pale skin, a large bust and a tight body. Her eyes lit up when they landed on Harry.

"Harry!" she yelped happily, dancing over to give him a hug. She was also the happiest person Harry had ever met, never failing to smile, and spread that smile to others. It was something that Harry desperately needed at this point in his life, something she picked up on if the amount of time she spent with him was any indication. Harry laughed as she threw her arms around his neck. "Hey there Jen."  
He circled his arms around her waist and pulled her tighter to him. The hug was warm, and still strange to him. Due to his unhappy childhood, Harry shied away from physical contact. It was subtle, something nobody ever noticed. Harry preferred it that way, less questions. But for some reason, it was never that way with Jennifer. The first time the sixteen year old had spontaneously hugged him, he'd tensed up, preparing to back away. And then, inexplicably, he'd relaxed. He reasoned it was due to her personality, so warm and bubbly he couldn't possibly be wary of it. It was a new experience for him. But he liked it. It was nice. It wasn't like the forceful hugs of Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. It was softer. Kinder. And he found that it helped his magic and his body both, so he never shied away.

"Aww. They're so cute." Maggie cooed. Matt grinned from his chair. "Yeah, those two are regular love birds." He joked. Harry blushed as he and Jennifer separated and the older girl rolled her eyes, despite the tinge of red in her cheeks as well. Suddenly she grinned and wrapped her arms more securely around Harry, throwing a look over her shoulder. "What can I say?" She said coyly, "I know a real man when I've got one." Harry's eyes went wide as his mouth fell open, blood rushing to his cheeks. "Jen!" He squawked. Matt likewise looked stunned before he threw back his head and laughed. "Oh boy, you got a keeper there Harry!"

Jennifer smiled at the stunned boy and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "Sorry Harry." She apologized. "I couldn't resist." Harry nodded, stunned from the kiss. "Sure." He said weakly, prompting more chuckles from Matt and Maggie. _'Maybe today isn't so bad after all.'_

* * *

Harry leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head, groaning blissfully as he felt a satisfying 'pop'. Jennifer giggled as she approached. "I bet that felt good." Harry just grunted in agreement. He sucked in a breath to talk, but it caught in his throat. He lurched forward and began to cough violently. "Harry!?" Jennifer reached over and laid a hand on his back. Harry tried to wave her off, but had to pull his hand up to his mouth as his coughing refused to let up. He felt warmth splatter against his palm as the fit reached it's peak and then faded away. He stayed hunched over for a moment, his face red. "Fuck me." He croaked miserably. He sat up a bit and looked down to see crimson stains on his hand. Jennifer noticed them too. "Jesus, Harry." She said softly, her hand tightening on his shoulder.

Harry wiped the blood on his pants and sat up fully, giving her a weak smile. "I told you not to worry." He chided. "I'm fine." Jennifer narrowed her eyes at him. "You don't look fine." She accused. Harry grimaced. "Well there's nothing you can do, so lay off, all right?" He muttered. When Jen and Matt had first seen him in a cruciatus induced fit, he'd explained it away as an incurable, genetic disease passed down in his told them he'd had it forever and it wasn't terminal, so they shouldn't worry. They still did though. Harry was just glad his magic hadn't freaked out in front of them.

Jen sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "C'mon, we're closing up." He nodded and stood to help. With all three of them it took about fifteen minutes to clean up the shop. Eventually they stepped out and Matt locked the door behind them. He turned and regarded them with a smile. "Well gang, I'd offer to take you guys for dinner, but I got plans."

Jennifer raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?" She said suspiciously. "This mystery woman whose name you won't say?"

Matt just grinned.

Jennifer narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms under her bust. "You know, I'm starting to think she isn't real. What do you think, Harry?"

Harry nodded sagely. "Very sketchy."

Matt pouted. "Guys, that hurts. Really."

Harry just snorted. "Matt's imaginary girlfriend aside, I gotta go. I'll see you guys tomorrow."  
He bumped fists with Matt. "Later mate." And then gave Jennifer a lingering hug. "Bye Harry. Be careful, 'kay?" Harry nodded. "Sure." He gave them one last wave and then turned and made his way down the darkened street. Matt and Jennifer watched him go. They didn't know it, but it would be a long time before either of them saw Harry Potter again.

* * *

Harry stepped off the bus into Little Whinging, breathing in the warm night air. His throat was slightly raw from his fit earlier, and the air helped. He took his time walking to the Dursley's. It was a beautiful, cloudless night and he intended to enjoy it. He turned on to Privet Drive and stopped, cocking his head to the side.

_'This is strange.'_ He thought to himself. It was dark. Very dark. There were no street lights on, and no light coming from houses either. The only illumination came from the full moon. It made for a very unsettling sight. Harry walked forward slowly, his senses alert for any sign. Even his magic was restless. He could feel it churning beneath his skin, as though in anticipation. He made it to number four and made his way up to the door, wary of the darkness in the windows. He fished out his key and raised it to unlock the door.

**_*POP*_**

Harry froze. He knew that sound. Oh god, he knew that sound. For a moment all was silent and Harry heard only his own haggard breath. And then, he turned around, hand dropping to his side. In the once empty street, there stood a man. There stood a monster. He smiled, pale skin pulling taught over his skeletal face as his hands rose to his sides in a posture of benevolence.

He spoke.

"Harry Potter. Welcome home."

Harry stared into the crimson eyes of Lord Voldemort and said only one thing.

"Aw shit."

* * *

**Whew! All right! Hope you guys enjoyed that. Sorry for the cliffhanger, but they're just so much fun. Now, I'll update this when I'm able, but right now fanfiction is not the most important thing in my life. I know, it's tragic, but that's the way it is. So don't expect quick updates on either this or Timekeepers. That said, REVIEW! Please? Did you like it? Did you hate it? Was it just okay? Let me know! If you have questions or concerns drop them in a review and I shall address them promptly. Until then,**

**This is xZarkko, signing off!_ "Who the hell do you think I am?" _**


	2. Hiatus Notice

Okay guys, not a chapter this time, just bad news. As of now, Wild Magic is officially on semi-permanent Hiatus. It really has been for awhile now. I've tried telling myself I'll get back to it, but I'm just not sure anymore. I'm kinda bummed, seeing as I was originally pretty psyched for this fic, but in several months it hasn't got a single review and I just don't have the time or the energy to invest in it. Maybe once my life settles down a little bit I can pick it back up, but for now I just don't see it happening. To everybody who enjoyed what little I have of it, I'm truly sorry to disappoint you.

**xZarkko**


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